Jagged Edges
by quicksilver-wind
Summary: Ginny is broken and no one sees. Draco is broken and no one cares. But sometimes, jagged edges find each other, and sometimes, just sometimes, they fit together so well that two broken pieces become one, whole. M for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1 Memories and Voices

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

A/N: This takes place in place of HBP. Draco has been ordered to kill Dumbledore, and Narcissa is being held hostage to ensure his cooperation. Dumbledore is still wounded, but he isn't dying, and Snape never made the Unbreakable Vow. Also, Harry and Ginny started dating early in the summer. AND Sirus never died. He almost did, but astonishingly made it out. He's too amazing to die. They don't see him much because Ginny is so sick, but he makes an appearance around Christmas.

Keep in mind that this is D/G but they won't be romantic right away, give them time. Also, it won't always be so morbid, I've just always wondered why Ginny never seems to be traumatized by the events in the chamber, or at least never seems to really think of it again.

Chapter One: Memories and Voices

Ginny sat anxiously on the edge of Harry's bed as he took off his shirt. They'd been dating for over a month now, and he'd been suggesting (nicely of course) that they may want to take things to the next step. Ginny didn't like the idea, but she decided to go along with it. _After all, he is my boyfriend,_ she thought, biting her lip, _if not with him, then with who?_

He crossed the room towards her, and she wasn't sure what to do. She could tell he was nervous as he kissed her gently, and she sighed inwardly.

Things began to heat up, and Harry began fumbling with her blouse. When he eventually got it off, she bit her lip again, and sighed. Harry mistook her sigh for pleasure, and slid a hand into her skirt. As his hand brushed aside her panties, she tensed. This was not what she wanted. This was not good.

"Harry, stop, I've changed my mind," she whispered fearfully, eyes wide and filling with tears.

"Ginny, I won't hurt you, trust me," replied Harry, and, having divested himself of his own pants, he slid inside her.

Ginny screamed at his words, and at his touch. Memories of her first year came rushing back. Memories which had haunted her in dreams since she had awoken in the Chamber, and which woke her screaming and sweating almost every night.

"No, please don't," she whimpered, "Stop, Tom, please!" Her anguished voice rose to a scream, and Harry pulled away immediately. He knew why she was afraid, and he cursed himself for not thinking about it.

"Shit, Ginny," he whispered touching her hair, "Ginny, I'm such an ass, I'm so sorry!"

She didn't see him. All she saw was Tom, and she felt Tom's hands touching her, and she saw the horrible things he had made her see. The horrible things he had made of intimacy.

She fled. Hermione looked up anxiously as she ran by, as it was well after curfew, and Ginny's abject terror made her turn on Harry, who had dashed down the staircase after her.

"What the bloody hell did you do to her?" asked Hermione angrily.

"We," he stammered, "I... We were going to, you know, have sex, but then she went all blank and started screaming for Tom to stop."

Hermione stared at him, and he collapsed on the couch. "I'm such an ass, Hermione. I forgot what he... what that damn bastard did to her. I didn't listen, and I hate myself. She was just a kid..." he whispered, holding his head in his hands, "She was just a kid."

Meanwhile, Ginny was running blindly. She had to get away from there. She knew it wasn't Tom, she knew it was Harry, and he loved her, and she was supposed to love him, right? But somehow the ghost of Tom had risen in Harry's eyes, in his voice, in his touch. They had said the same words, both of them, before invading her body. The very same words.

When she looked around, she was in the second floor girls' toilet, the place where it had all really gone to hell, and the place where it had all ended. She threw up in the nearest toilet, and pressed her face to the smooth stone floor, tears pouring down it.

Tom's silky whisper filled her ears, and, even with her eyes wide open, she saw all the things he had shown her. Shuddering, Ginny pulled her legs up to her chest and began to rock back and forth, face blank and mind full of horrors.

Directly above the girls toilet was the prefect's bathroom. The huge tub was full of scalding water, and behind the steam, a blonde boy sat low in the water.

If anyone looked closely, they would see that his eyes were ringed red with tears and black with dark circles born of sleepless nights. His pointed face was thinner, more angular than usual, and his hair did not shine like silk, the way it normally did, but rather hung lank and dull.

Draco Malfoy was seriously contemplating killing himself. Another deadline was coming up tomorrow, and it too would pass without completion. And, without a doubt, another lock of his mother's beautiful hair would be sent to him. The problem set him by the Dark Lord was impossible, but with his mother as a hostage, he was helpless to obey.

At least if he killed himself, she could go free. _Unless_, whispered a part of his mind_, unless He kills her in rage. Or in revenge. You know Him better than that. You know he will not simply let her go after you betray him and take yourself out of His reach. He will rip her apart in the hope that her pain will in some way reach you. And no one will care that you died. You have one meaning in life: to serve the Dark Lord. Death Eater. Coward. Fool. _

Draco hated himself. He hated that his father and his master. He hate the damn voice inside himself which accused him of all of the things he feared to be called. All of the things he knew he was.

With a groan, he heaved himself out of the bath, and headed back to the common room, where no one would have noticed his absence. Where no one would have cared if he had killed himself. In fact, the school probably would celebrate.

As he left, the little voice whispered in his head again. _Pathetic. You're too much of a coward to kill yourself. Too much of a coward to run away. Pathetic._

The voice reminded him of his father's.

Note: I've already written a few chapters so I'll try to have them up soon so you can see where this is going. In the meantime, please read and review so I know how I'm doing.


	2. Chapter 2 Pretending and Breaking

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

Chapter Two: Pretending and Breaking

In the morning, Ginny returned to the common room. She spoke to Harry, and accepted his repeated apologies, but she sadly broke up with him.

"Harry," she said quietly, "I just can't. I thought I was over the whole thing with Tom, but I'm not ready to have a relationship. I'm sorry, I really am."

She ignored Hermione's inquiries and went back to her small circle of friends. Day in and day out, she went to class, she did her homework and she sat with her friends, and every day, she had to force herself out of bed in the mornings. Every smile she flashed was false, and even her conversation fell flat because she was simply too tired to say anything useful. And every night, behind Silencing charms and sealed curtains, she cried herself to sleep and screamed herself awake.

As hard as things were, however, Ginny was and always would be a Gryffindor. She was brave, and she could endure without complaint. And she hadn't survived a childhood around her many brothers by going off crying when things were hard.

Nonetheless, as time went on, Ginny became pale and thin, and she would jump whenever anyone touched her. She was questioned repeatedly by Hermione and Luna, but she brushed them off. No one could know, because no one would understand. No one else could know how broken she was.

By Halloween, sheer will was the only thing keeping Ginny together. She trembled constantly and jumped at the slightest noises. She hadn't smiled or eaten or slept in days, but to her surprise, Harry, Ron and Hermione had noticed nothing. She wasn't surprised about Harry, he didn't know how to be around her anymore, so he avoided her constantly, which kept the others away as well. But even Luna and Colin, her very best friends, thought that she had just caught something. No one remembered that the day of the first attack, the day that Ginny had first tried to kill, was rapidly approaching.

When the feast rolled around, Ginny went bravely down with her friends, feeling that a ghost of her younger self must be roaming blankly around, possessed, looking for something to kill.

This thought made her physically ill, and she excused herself, planning to go to the Hospital Wing. When she left however, whispers in her mind drew her irrevocably to the second floor bathroom.

Ginny stopped in the middle of the bathroom and looked around, her red hair hanging dully around her shoulders. She fit in perfectly with the dank, unused room, she was little more than a ghost. No more real than she had been in her first year. Less real than Tom.

She threw up the few bites of food she had choked down, and then she wiped her mouth and sat up.

_Little Ginny Weasley... _hissed a voice in her mind, and she shuddered. It was only her imagination, Tom was gone. Harry had killed Tom and Dumbledore had promised that he could never come back.

Poor Harry. She should love him, want him. She should. But whenever they kissed, she felt nothing. It wasn't bad, it was just empty. Ginny snorted. That was a bit rich coming from her - she was nothing more than a husk herself.

And then she started to cry. Not the terrified mewling that she had done since the nightmares had started again, or the horrified screaming that left her raw, but deep sobs which welled up from the very pit of her soul and poured out in a tragic flood. Her tears trickled down the drain, and she knew they would drip into the Chamber below. And as they fell away, so did herself. Ginny felt as if she were crying herself empty.

With that thought, she curled up on the floor and wept harder, hugging her legs to her chest.

Out of habit, students avoided the second floor hallway after the Halloween feast. Everyone remembered the cold body of Mrs. Norris (hated as she was), and shuddered, feet quickly finding another path.

Draco was the exception. He craved punishment, anything to make him feel anything, and he wanted to be alone. At least alone he could forget that he neither cared for anyone nor was cared for by anyone. When he was alone, it made sense to be lonely.

He had made it his ritual to go to the baths several times a week, just to see if he could summon up the courage to do himself in, but so far to no avail. So far, the locks of his mother's hair had kept arriving weekly, along with a letter which announced that eventually, they would start in on fingers. The note was always signed in her blood.

He was horrified at the idea of Death Eaters in Hogwarts, and he desperately wanted NOT to kill the Headmaster who had protected and watched over them all all these years. But he loved his mother, and he could not let her die, especially not at the hands of a monster like the Dark Lord.

As he walked along the hallway and passed the stretch of wall where faint red marks were still visible, he heard someone crying. Not crying, really, but he had no better word for the anguished and heartbreaking sound that came from the unused girls toilet.

Draco had no heart, and if he did it was of ice or stone, that was what he'd been taught. But the sound of this unknown person's grief brought the empathetic, helpful and kind Draco out of the shadows and to the forefront. So without thinking, he went quietly in.

The pool of red on the floor drew a quiet curse from his lips until he realized that it was not oddly coloured blood but rather distinctive Weasley hair. And then he cursed again, because of all people, it had to be Weasley. Nonetheless, he stomped on his misgivings and approached her where she lay curled on the stone floor.

Draco did the most reasonable thing he could think of. He poked her. And Ginny, unpredictably, responded by fainting. He panicked, and picked her up.

The girl weighed nothing, her frail body settling like a feather in his arms, and Draco's long dormant heart felt a jolt of pity for her. Even unconscious, her face looked pained and scared, and terrified whispers and whimpers crossed her lips every now and then as he carried her to the Hospital Wing.

"Tom," she cried, her voice no more than a feeble whisper, "What's happening to me? Where are you taking me?"

"Um, Weasley," he said, at a total loss for what to do, but she didn't wake up, just stiffened in his arms as if hurt.

"Tom, stop, please stop. I don't like it, don't touch me, please! Tom, please... please," she whimpered, her voice trailing off into incomprehensible whispers.

He slammed the door of the Hospital Wing open, and Madam Pomfrey came running.

"Good God, Mr. Malfoy," she said angrily, "What have you done to her!"

He glared at the matron, unwilling to think that, as a Death Eater, he probably deserved this reaction. "I found her in the empty girls toilet on the second floor, sobbing. I heard her from down the hall, and when I went in, I touched her shoulder to see if she was okay and she fainted, then she started whispering a load of nonsense about Tom."

When he said that, Madam Pomfrey paled, and gestured to a bed. "Place her there gently, and then go find the Headmaster." When he didn't jump to action, she snapped her fingers at him. "Go, Mr. Malfoy, quickly!"

He deposited Ginny as gently as he could and then took off at a run. He ran into Snape first.

"Draco, what in God's name are you doing?" asked the professor coldly.

He panted and, gasping, said, "Need... to find... professor Dumbledore... Hospital Wing... now... Weasley..."

Snape too apparently understood the cause of the problem and took off to find Dumbledore. Draco was furious that no one would explain to him, but he was also afraid. He had thought that he was at rock bottom, but judging from her pitiful state, things could get worse.

That thought had Draco sprinting for the baths.

Draco slipped into the scalding water and sank beneath the surface, eyes wide open. After a moment, his body betrayed him and drove him to the surface.

Damn. This wasn't working. He needed something heavy or...

He reached for his wand and, taking a deep breath, cast a cutting charm towards his wrist. He hissed at the pain, and then laughed. Why had he not thought of this before? It was so easy, so fast.

Another few cutting charms and the water was stained red, the heat drawing his blood out quickly, and he sank under the water again. This time, his eyes drifted shut, and his mind drifted into blessed darkness.

He was floating, and it was so simple to let go. There was nothing to bind him to the earth except his mother, and she too would soon be gone. Gone because he had been set an impossible task. One way or another, she would die. This way, he would be there waiting for her.


	3. Chapter 3 Unconscious

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

Chapter 3: Unconscious

"Damn," hissed Snape as he burst into the baths, he should have known that the idiot would try something like this instead of just asking for help.

The air smelled like blood, and the water of the deep bath was stained crimson. In the centre, at the bottom, lay a still, dark form.

Snape dove in, grabbing the boy by the hair and dragging him out. A few charms later, and he was sprinting to the Hospital Wing, clutching his dying and possibly dead godson in his arms and, for the first time in many years, praying to any higher power who was listening to preserve the life he held so carefully.

As he burst in, the Headmaster looked up from where he sat beside Ginny's bed. "Severus, what--" he questioned anxiously.

"You know why, Dumbledore, you know exactly why," hissed the pale and dripping Potions Master, "He tried to kill himself when he saw how much worse the Dark Lord could make things."

Madam Pomfrey shrieked as she saw Draco's limp form. He had been safe and sound only an hour earlier, and now he lay, hovering between life and death. She grabbed the boy from his arms and laid him on the bed beside the one where Ginny lay, still whimpering pitifully in her sleep.

She began Healing his wounds, but they resisted her charms, having been cut magically. "Stupid boy," she said sadly, "Stupid, stupid boy. Why couldn't he just be unimaginative and dull and use a normal blade?"

Severus, who was sitting, ashen, by Draco's bed, replied quietly, "Because he's never seen non-magical injuries. He learned this from his father."

Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened at that and bent more furiously over the boy. At long last, she wrapped his wounds and began pouring potions down his throat.

"Here, Severus," she said, "Take this Pepper-up for yourself - you look like hell. Then keep spooning the Blood Replenishing Potion into him. He'll need the rest of the bottle and then another one, and then another bottle of Skin Mending Potion - I couldn't get enough into him before. After that I'll check in on him again."

"Pomona," said Snape quietly, "Will he live?"

She pursed her lips and looked at him gravely. "He should pull through, but it's to early to be certain. He died as I laid him down, Severus, and it took everything I had to pull him back. Even if he does survive, his mind may be damaged, and he's likely to try this again as soon as you let him out of your sight. I would suggest that he went home to be cared for by his parents, but as I suspect that his father was behind this, I am at a loss."

Snape nodded silently and took the potions. Madam Pomfrey went over to Dumbledore, bent over Ginny. As he spooned the potion into his godson, he listened to the quiet conversation they were having about the young woman so much like the redhead he loved. He feared as much for the Weasley girl as for Draco, and his heart felt as if it would explode with worry. Snape was afraid, and for a man who survived on a mask of malice and a deep love for a dead woman, this emotion pained him more than he could have expected.

"Albus, I thought that she was past all that," said Madam Pomfrey in a hushed voice.

"It seems not. Mr. Potter spoke to me about a certain event which he feared may have brought the memories back, but both he and her brother felt that she had recovered from this incident."

"What happened, Albus."

The headmaster coughed delicately and whispered something in her ear. The matron scowled. "I had a better opinion of him than that."

"Pomona, he is a sixteen-year-old boy and Miss Weasley is a very attractive young woman who was consenting. Neither of them could have known the consequences, and I assure you that he is extraordinarily remorseful and has been given her forgiveness."

Snape frowned. What the hell had Potter done to her? Certainly even Dumbledore wouldn't be so forgiving if he had raped her, but that was certainly what it sounded like.

The matron pursed her lips and sighed. "I suppose that's up to your discretion, Albus. But I have no idea what to do for her. When I examined her, I found that she is quite undernourished - it seems as if she hasn't been eating at all. And the way she keeps whispering 'Tom'... She may be mad, Albus, and if she is, I don't know how to help her."

Dumbledore drew his wand and murmured a spell. He furrowed his brows for a moment, and then heaved a sigh in relief. "Her mind is still functioning. It seems, however, that she is extremely traumatized. She was upset when Mr. Malfoy found her, but after he touched her, she was lost in hallucinations. I believe that if we let her recover from this incident, she will be able to tell us exactly the problem. We shall have to work from there."

"So what do you propose?"

"We must keep the Malfoy boy here for a few days at least, and I think that we ought to leave Miss Weasley where she is for now. In time, one or both may need to be transferred to St. Mungo's, and Ginevra may need to go home to recover, but for now, we shall leave them be."

"Albus if anyone else gets seriously hurt, I won't be able to help all of them."

"Mr. Malfoy and Miss Weasley shouldn't need too much care, only rest and supervision, but if you need any assistance, I will make sure that St. Mungo's keeps someone on hand to help you."

She nodded, "All right, Albus. I'll keep them here until we see how bad the situation is. Now if you don't mind, I need to go see to Mr. Malfoy, and perhaps you should put Severus to bed. I'll give you a potion for him to take."

"Of course, Pomona. Be sure to get some sleep. I'll inform Miss Weasley's family in the morning, but I will ask them to refrain from coming to visit her until we better understand the situation."

The Headmaster all but dragged Snape out of the Hospital Wing, and after Madam Pomfrey finished treating Draco, she set the appropriate charms which would wake her in an emergency and went to bed.


	4. Chapter 4 Shock and Dreams

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

Chapter 4: Shock and Dreams

In the darkened Hospital Wing, Draco rose groggily and painfully to consciousness. He felt the bandages on his arms and tasted the lingering bitterness of Blood Replenishing Potions.

He almost cried. He had failed. He couldn't even kill himself, for God's sake, why the hell would the Dark Lord expect him to kill Dumbledore? And his mother would continue to be tortured now. _Pathetic fool. You deserve to die a coward's death. You are pathetic._

Each breath pained him, but worse was the crushing loneliness. In the dark room, behind the curtains, Draco did not even have the light he kept by him at night to keep him company. He tried to let himself drift off again, but his self-loathing was so great that he could do nothing but lie there, thinking hateful thoughts.

"Draco?" came a light voice from somewhere to his left. The voice was weak, no stronger than a sigh, but he recognized it easily.

"What?" he asked, unsure. His tone came out somewhat strangled, since he tried to simultaneously convey the expected distain, unavoidable sympathy, and curiosity while still mired in self hate.

In a voice that was so sad and vulnerable that it made his heart ache, she replied, "I just wanted to know that there was someone else."

He recognized the loneliness. Even an enemy that she loathed, someone that had made her faint only hours earlier, was still someone. When you were alone at the bottom, anyone was better than no one.

He didn't know how to respond, and she didn't say anything else. They lay in silence, and he listened to the sound of her shallow breathing. Everything about her was so fragile, so ready to be broken.

"Weasley?" he asked hesitantly a few minutes later. When she didn't respond, he just asked anyways. "Who is Tom?"

Her breath hitched, and stopped for an agonized second, and then she answered him with a pale shade of her usual fire, her tone bitterly venomous and still horribly weak. "As if you don't know. As if you and your father weren't laughing at me the whole time."

Furious, he hissed back, "I have no idea what you're talking about, and I've certainly never laughed with my father about anything."

"Tom is your master. Your father wears his Mark on his arm," floated back the reply.

"My father follows the Dark Lord, not some Tom person, Weasley, you know that."

She whispered something lower than he could hear, and then letters appeared in the air before him, glowing faintly.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

I am Lord Voldemort.

His shock drowned everything out, from her quiet, passive breathing to his own agonized, heaving breaths that brought the matron running.

The paper incinerated itself as she tore open his curtains to find him hyperventilating, wounds reopened and eyes wide with shock.

The matron poured a Dreamless Sleep Potion down his throat, and he lost consciousness again, blissfully forgetting everything.

* * *

It was night again before he woke, and this time, he couldn't hear any quiet breathing beside him. He panicked again before he could think, and his harsh whisper broke the night.

"Weasley? Weasley?"

There was no answer, but a second later, he heard a breath from her bed and was relieved that she had survived the night. Unbeknownst to Draco, the youngest Weasley had reactivated his heart and stolen a place in it. He would never admit it, and wasn't at all aware of it, but for the first time, Draco truly cared about someone other than himself.

He relaxed, and dozed off again, unwilling to wake her. It could, however, have been no more than ten minutes later when he was roused again by the sound of her screams, raw screams that ripped at her throat and seized her against her will, screams of horror and animalistic terror. They had an odd muted quality, however, and he realized that this horrible sound was the version muffled by her pillow. He was about to jump up to fetch the matron when she came running, and burst through Ginny's curtains.

She jostled his as she did, and through a small gap, he saw her lift the younger girl to a sitting position and embraced her tightly. Ginny's screams turned to sobs, and she began shaking uncontrollably.

"Shh, dear," murmured Madam Pomfrey, brushing back Ginny's sweat-soaked hair and rubbing her back, "It isn't real. He's gone, he won't be back. He's gone, Ginny, it's okay."

Draco filed the comment away for future thought - the Dark Lord was by no means gone and would certainly be back, especially if Draco did as he was supposed to.

After some time, Ginny fell quiet, and sat up, wiping away tears angrily. He was appalled to see her horrible frailty. She was no more than a specter, red hair contrasting horribly with a sickly pallor, and the dark circles around her eyes seemed more like deep bruises. Her cheekbones protruded through her skin, and her hands fluttered weakly, nothing more than bone.

"Here, dear," said Madam Pomfrey, "Drink this. It will help you sleep."

Ginny shook her head, swaying alarmingly until the matron lowered her back onto the pillows. "It doesn't help. It just means I can't wake up when he comes. I'd rather wake up screaming than stay asleep and watch. Besides, I can't take a potion every night. I'm used to it."

"What do you mean every night? This is something new, right? Miss Weasley, how many times has this happened?"

She looked at the matron with a dead-eyed stare. "Every time I close my eyes, I see it all again. I used to be able to fall asleep and forget, and I'd only rarely wake up screaming, but since..." she broke off and took a trembling breath, "This whole year, I have no escape. I wake up screaming every night. Every single night. I'm afraid to even blink too long, because he might find me, even then."

Ginny's voice carried the bitterness born when one endured more pain than one could bear, and yet continued to bear it simply because there was no other choice. It was the same bitterness that filled his voice every time he spoke to his father.

The matron enfolded Ginny in a bone-crushing hug, her own eyes glistening. "You should have come to me the very first time they came back. I could have helped."

"Don't you see," said Ginny wearily, "They never came back, because they never went away. I told everyone that they'd stopped because they were infrequent enough that I could go on. I couldn't have everyone hovering over me all the time. I had to endure it, and there is nothing anyone can do to help, there never has been. Even if I'm hurting, I'm strong enough to stand it, and no one else should have to. I did those terrible things, Tom and I did. No one else. So I pay the price. And I survive. That is how I choose to live. I am not an invalid, and I will not burden my family. I will survive this."

The matron hugged her again, and gave her a Calming Draught before letting Ginny rest, and when she came to check in on Draco, he pretended to be asleep. He had hated himself before, but her words had driven that hatred home, deeper than he had ever felt it. They were cursed in the same way, but he fumbled around pitifully, trying to be the big man and follow his father, while his mother was held hostage by his evil master. Ginny suffered in silence with a proud strength that made him understand for the first time what it truly meant to be a Gryffindor. Potter did the same, but he had a tangible enemy. Ginny's was in her mind, so she had nothing to fight. Instead of demanding sympathy and coddling, she pretended to be fine for the sake of others, and died away inside.

"I will survive," she had said, and he envied that. He had never had that courage, that conviction. After all, it had only been the previous day that he had tried to kill himself.

Ginny's will was her strength, her past her weakness. She fought to be strong and brave, and she fought not for her own sake, but for the sake of others. He wished that he could do the same. A Gryffindor was noble, brave, and self-sacrificing. Slytherins, despite cunning and pride, had nothing that pure. Draco's mind was beginning to skirt around the edges of a very un-Malfoy idea, one that would have shocked his mother and appalled his father, one that would rock his world to its very core.

* * *

Note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and keep it coming! I've got up to chapter 10 done, so I'll try to update pretty regularly. Also, I'm looking for a beta reader, so if anyone is interested, PM me. Next chapter won't be very exciting, but Ginny gets some visitors, Draco gets none, and rumours start.


	5. Chapter 5 Visitors and Silence

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

Chapter 5: Visitors and Silence

Under the influence of the Calming Draught, Ginny lay back on her pillows and relaxed. She knew it wouldn't last, and was still terrified of sleep, but it was impossible to resist the potion.

Restless shifting on the other side of the curtain told her Draco was awake, but she was too tired after her little speech to make conversation. She drifted into a daze - not quite a doze - and cast her mind back to her childhood. How sunlit and glorious it seemed to her now, how innocent and idyllic. It saddened her that all of her memories since were tainted by the events of her first year.

Throughout the night, she heard Draco clear his throat as if to speak several times, but he never said anything. She supposed he was disgusted at her weakness, but she wondered why he had reacted so strongly to her showing him the name Tom had taken. Well, he was a Malfoy, she thought, so who knows?

When the morning dawned, Ginny cracked a smile. Tom never bothered her during the light of day, and today she would have no one to pretend to. She had consented to let Hermione visit, but only Hermione. She could trust the older girl not to reveal anything unnecessary to the others but to pass on enough information to satisfy them. She would also have to write to her mother at some point, but that could wait.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a tray of food, and she felt her stomach rebel. She had eaten nothing for days, and the thought of food made her feel ill.

"Here, Miss Weasley," said the matron cheerfully, "I know you haven't been eating, but you will eat every last bite on this tray or I will personally force it down."

Ginny paled and shook her head. "I can't. I think I'm going to be sick."

Pomfrey shook her head. "That's all in your mind and if you're going to work on getting better then you need to eat."

Ginny took a bite of the offered toast and chewed. Her stomach protested when she swallowed, but it stayed down. She finished the piece and moved on to the next. She laboriously ate her way through two pieces of toast, a cup of tea, and and egg, and felt slightly better afterwards. At least the shaking had lessened somewhat.

As she ate she heard Madam Pomfrey arguing with Malfoy about the food.

"You're going to eat it, Mr Malfoy, and you're going to like it."

"I doubt that very much," he replied, his voice infused with a sneer that Ginny felt was somehow false. The matron looked irate, but calmed herself.

"You will not starve under my care, and if I have to pour it down your throat myself I tell you now I will happily do so."

He grumbled, but when the matron returned to her bed, she assumed that he had acquiesced.

The matron dragged her out of bed to the toilet, where she sat outside the bath and let Ginny soak, and then washed the young woman's hair when she proved too weak to do it herself, and then helped her out and charmed her dry. She helped Ginny into a soft pair of pajamas, helped her brush and plait her hair, and then all but carried the exhausted girl to her bed.

Ginny was given a pile of books that a house elf had obligingly brought from her room, and left to read while the matron dealt with the much less obliging patient beside her.

He was not allowed a bath, for fear that he would try to kill himself again, especially given the tortured expression on his face, but he was allowed a quick shower. When he was ensconced in bed again (wearing green silk pajamas which Ginny rather envied), Madam Pomfrey went off to make some potions and to consult St. Mungo's about the possibility of getting one of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unctions for Ginny.

Draco didn't say anything to her again, so she picked up one of her books just as Hermione entered the Hospital Wing.

The young woman walked over to Ginny's bed and slipped inside the curtains.

"Hey, Hermione," said Ginny softly.

Hermione took her hand gently. "I'm so, so sorry Ginny," she said, "I've been so focused on myself that I never thought that you weren't recovered. I look at you now and see how thin you are, how sad and tired you look, how jumpy you are... I'm so sorry for not having seen any of that."

Ginny thought she should smile, but her face still didn't want to form a sincere one. "Don't worry about me, Hermione, please," she replied, "I was trying to hide it. I didn't want anyone to know, and you shouldn't feel bad because I lied to you."

"Well I do, but I didn't come here just to be a downer. I brought you some books, and some schoolwork if you want it, and I brought Arnold because he's very cute, you know, and some Honeydukes - your favorite box."

Ginny, to her surprise, did actually crack a slight smile. Hermione may have been a year older, and she may have been Ron's friend first, but she was also one of Ginny's best friends. Hermione passed off Arnold, the purple Pygmy Puff, in the box that Ginny had lovingly outfitted for him, and the placed the chocolates on the table beside her bed.

"Do you want the books and schoolwork?" asked Hermione.

Ginny nodded. "I can't fall behind. What books did you bring?"

"Well I brought some of Harry and Ron's Quidditch books: Quidditch Through the Ages, Beating the Bludgers and He Flew Like A Madman, and I also brought Enchanted Encounters, which is quite good, and you were mentioning that you wanted to read _Helas, Je me suis transfigure mes pieds_, so I picked up a copy of that, and I also brought the next book in that series about Merlin, which was going to be your Christmas present, but I suppose it will have to do for a get-well soon gift. And Ron sent Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions, but I've looked at that one and it's completely nonsensical, so I'm not sure that I'd bother, if I were you. And Ginny," asked Hermione tentatively, "I brought you something else, but if you don't want it, I promise I'll throw it out, or burn it, or something."

Ginny frowned. "What is it?"

Hermione pulled a beautiful book bound in red leather and with a gold lion etching into the cover. "It's a diary, Ginny, so you have something to write in that won't steal what you say. So you can tell your thoughts to something, even if it doesn't write back. I know you think no one will understand, but maybe it will help to write it. I got it made especially for you in a rush order the second I found out you were here, and I got a special quill to match." She pulled out a red quill and handed it to Ginny. "If you don't want it, we can burn it together or something. It's yours to do with as you like."

Ginny was extraordinarily touched. "I love it, Hermione, I really do. It's beautiful. I don't know if I can even write out what I feel, but I'll try."

"The quill is spelled so that only you and whoever you want to show can see what you wrote. No one can invade your privacy again, Gin."

She felt like crying at how amazing and thoughtful Hermione was. Her friend hugged her, and then pulled out another gift. "Harry filched this for you. He tried to get a Quaffle, but he didn't figure you could really use it, and he didn't think you'd want a Bludger, so he grabbed you this."

Inside the little box was a Snitch, one that had never been touched or flown. She picked it up reverently. "I love it. I love everything. Thank you, Hermione."

The older witch had to leave for her next class, but she hugged Ginny goodbye and promised that she'd be back and that Luna and Colin would try to drop in.

Just before lunch, Luna, wand stuck behind her ear and hair a mess wandered in. "Ginny!" she squealed, and hugged her friend tightly. "I can't stay and I know you probably don't want me to, so I brought you some presents. I made a necklace of butterbeer corks for you, to keep away the Nargles, and I ordered a bunch of stuff from your brothers' shop. Here are some of the Patented Daydream Charms, because you look like you could use a few, and the Hangman game, which they sent for free for some reason, and a set of model broomsticks which will play a game of Quidditch if you charm them to. Oh, and I brought you this week's Quibbler."

They chatted for a few more minutes and then Luna took her leave. Ginny was relieved that her friend hadn't stayed for long - she felt overwhelmed and exhausted, but still pleased. Madam Pomfrey soon came back to check on them and forced both patients to eat. Draco had been dozing all day, apparently, an effect of having lost most of his blood and dying. He was still taking two doses of Blood-Replenishing Potion every day and some Skin Mending Potion with every meal, and Madam Pomfrey had charmed him so that he could not leave the Hospital Wing or cast any offensive spells. Ginny, of course, knew none of this.

Madam Pomfrey wanted Ginny to try to sleep, but the young woman was too afraid to try, so the matron relented and made her eat an apple instead.

The next class, a first year was escorted in by Madam Hooch with a broken leg, and Madam Pomfrey had to mend him up, and a fourth year who had been on the receiving end of a Furnunculus curse arrived to be fixed up as well. Both shot curious looks at the two older students, both of whom looked rather sickly but not distinctly ill. Ginny was doing her Charms homework, and despite her profound frailty, the canaries fluttering around her head as she wrote her essay seemed a little cheerful for a prolonged stay at in the infirmary. Draco looked less ill, but the bandages all along his arms and the potion bottles beside his bed pointed to something serious. Mostly, the odd looks were because they were both well known students who hated each other, and so both students immediately were convinced that they had cursed each other straight into the Hospital Wing. A seventh-year Hufflepuff who arrived with an swollen hand from a botched potion and burns on his face decided that either they had duelled and landed themselves in the infirmary, or one of the Weasley boys had discovered that Malfoy was shagging their sister and had cursed both of them.

Neither Ginny nor Draco knew that rumors soon abounded about their supposed covert relationship and their epic duel to the death.

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Note: Not too much action in this chapter, sorry. Next chapter: Draco and Ginny have a heart to heart, we see Ginny's diary and Draco makes a choice. There's only two more chapters in the hospital wing and then things will start to change. As always, read and review please, and thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! I'm currently editing, but I may put another chapter up tonight or tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6 Diaries and Dressings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**Note: There is some heavy stuff in this chapter - Draco's memories of being tortured by Lucius (if you haven't gotten that yet his home life pretty much sucks), Ginny's memories about Tom in the chamber. I don't think its' too bad though - this is rated M after all. **

Chapter 6: Diaries and Dressings

Draco lay in his bed in the Hospital Wing obediently. He had no where better to be, and was currently involved in a massive moral dilemma.

Ginny had visitors throughout the day who delivered piles of presents, and Hermione Granger even returned to eat dinner with her. Before the bushy-haired muggle-born (he found himself unable to think mudblood) left, she helped Ginny change and then sat cross-legged on the bed beside the redhead and brushed her long curly hair gently.

The gesture made Draco's heart ache again. This time he didn't pity the Weasley girl, he envied her. He had had no visitors - his father thought he was weak and pathetic, his mother was held hostage, his aunts were either family outcasts or completely insane, and he had no real friends in the school - the Prince of Slytherin was either feared or envied, never loved. They all obeyed him, for now, but they were waiting for him to accomplish his goal and the longer he failed, the more their rebellion swelled.

When Hermione left with a warm hug for Ginny, silence fell in the infirmary. Draco eventually dozed off, dreams bleak and turbulent.

He awoke much later with a start. From Ginny's bed came a sound other than light breathing or sobbing. Behind the curtain, a faint golden glow and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment caught his gaze and his ear. He twitched the curtain separating them gently and peered through. The glow seemed to be emanating from the diary Granger had brought her early in the day, and Ginny, tears falling down her cheeks, was pouring her thoughts into it.

He was stricken with the desire to read what she wrote. Would it be silly?

_Today my friends visited me. I'm in the Hospital Wing and I got chocolates. Pie for desert. Malfoy is a wanker._

Probably not, except the last bit. It might be rather morbid though...

_I woke screaming again. I'm not getting any better. I want to die. People will be sad if I kill myself, but they'll be better off in the end. Maybe in my next bath--_

He shook his head. No, that sounded too much like what he would write, except the bit about people being sad.

"Draco?" said Ginny, putting down her quill, "What are you looking at?"

Her tone was gentle, not angry, so he answered truthfully. "You. I was wondering what you're writing about."

She looked up at him, but she didn't smile. "Everything, I guess..." she paused, twirling her quill, and he was caught by the sorrow buried in her eyes. "Can I come sit with you for a while?"

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

She shook her head. "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked."

"Er... well, yeah, you can if you want to, I suppose."

She picked up her diary and quill and wrapped herself in a blanket. "Will you help me? I can't quite walk alone."

He bit his lip and took her hand, pulling her from her bed into his arms. He'd never had anyone in his arms before, never mind a girl, and he was a little stunned, but he helped her climb onto his bed. They lay back against the pillows side by side, and he stared at her.

"Sorry," she whispered, "But I'm scared to fall asleep, and I might stay awake better if I'm talking to you."

"Um, okay," he replied, one hand going to his wounds to scratch at them.

She took his hand in hers and dropped it back in his lap. "Don't scratch those."

They sat in silence for a second, and Draco's mind was extremely befuddled.

"Hey Draco," she said, "Why won't those cuts heal?" His cheeks flooded with red and he hung his head a little in shame. "Please?"

She sounded so small and innocent and sincere that he took a deep breath and answered. "I sort of cursed them."

"Why?"

"Well drowning wasn't working, and I wanted to be sure, so I used a cursed Cutting charm that my father used to use on me when I was younger."

She picked up his wrist and he was shocked how delicate and soft her fingers felt. It was like being touched by a butterfly. "So you tried to kill yourself," she said, "And they're scared you'll try again. Would you?"

He decided to be honest. "As soon as I have a chance."

"Why?"

"The Dark Lord wants me to do something that I can't do, something that I'm terrified of doing and that I just can't figure out how to do. And he'll kill my family if I don't."

Ginny didn't say anything to that, just nodded against his shoulder and continued tracing the dressing on his arm lightly.

"Draco?" she asked again.

"Yeah?"

"Do you still want to read what I wrote in my diary?"

"You'd show me that?" he asked, stunned.

With genuine sincerity, she looked up at him. "I think you'll understand."

Without saying anything else, without any preclude, she cracked open the diary to the first page.

_It's strange, writing in a diary again. I half expect to see words appearing on the page when I write. His words. I won't put his name in these pages because I know who he is, and I don't need to be reminded. _

_Since then, I've never kept a diary. I was too afraid, I suppose, but this diary seems different. Maybe because it was made just for me, maybe because it's so Gryffindor. Either way, maybe Hermione is right, maybe I should put what I feel down. It will be strange to let out my feelings without having them sucked away, but hopefully it will help._

_That's a nice word, hopefully. Hope itself is nice. It's sort of like a butterfly, I think, so tentative and fragile, but so vital and determined that it just has to survive. I talked to Madam Pomfrey last night, about surviving. I think she was upset with me, but it's the truth. As long as I can survive without hurting others, I am doing well. I used to dream about other things, but I've never had real goals - not since I turned eleven. _

_I'm going to try to make 10 goals that aren't related to what he did to me. Here is my list._

_Have a good dream._

_Keep a diary (this one)._

_Get at least six OWLs._

_Either play on the Holyhead Harpies or get a job in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Or as a mind Healer. Then something good can come from all of this._

_Visit France._

_Talk to Draco - we're stuck in here together after all. _

_Become Quidditch captain._

_Make Mum and Dad proud._

_Get married._

_Become a mum._

_I think that having goals is good - it keeps hope alive. Some of those might be a little silly, but they are what I want to do, and I don't care what anyone thinks. _

_I'm afraid to sleep. Every time I shut my eyes, the things he showed me, the things he did to me, appear. It's a constant reel, and I just wish it would end. I know he's gone, but until He is, I don't think I'll sleep easy. Does He know? I hope not. Dumbledore says not, and I trust Dumbledore. Other than Mum and Dad, I trust him more than anyone. I used to trust Harry that much too, but since that night, I can't seem to. I know he didn't really do anything wrong, and I know that he feels awful, but still. I told him to stop, and he used the same words that the other he used. That's what scared me most._

_On another topic, Hermione came to visit me today. She's wonderful. At least I know I'm not alone - I have wonderful family and friends, and even if they can't understand, and that makes me feel alone, at least I know they try. I haven't talked to Draco in a while, and he's just sat there in silence. I wonder why no one has come to visit him... I guess I'm not the only one who hurts. I don't know why, but I think he's more alone than even I am... I can hear him moving around, and I think he's watching me write now. I wonder why...? The only way to find out is to ask, I guess..._

She stopped talking and looked up at him again. Then her frail little hand came up and brushed something away on his cheek. "Don't cry, Draco, it really is alright," she said gently, and he almost laughed.

"Ginny, I'm sorry I've been an ass to you since you started here," he said unexpectedly.

She startled him by smiling slightly. It looked strange on her pale face, but he smiled too. "It's okay," she answered, "I never really cared anyways."

He had nothing to say. Rather he had a million things to say and couldn't pick one because they all seemed inarticulate or inappropriate.

"Can I tell you why I'm so scared?" she asked timidly.

He nodded, and she snuggled back into the pillows against his shoulder. "Promise me you'll just listen and won't say anything or laugh or tell anyone ever?"

"I promise, Ginny."

"Remember the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yeah, of course. Wait. You got taken down there, didn't you? And Hermione and Colin are your best friends, and they got Petrified, right?"

She shook her head sadly. "I didn't get taken down there. I walked. I painted the message on the wall with my own hands. I was the one who Petrified them all. I was trying to kill them."

Draco was absolutely and completely shocked. Little Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor through and through, daughter of the biggest family of blood-traitors ever to have existed, was the bloody Heir of Slytherin.

"What?" he asked in a strangled tone.

She sighed, and tears pooled in her eyes. "Your father put a diary in with my books in the summer before I started at Hogwarts. I found it when I got to school, and because I was lonely and little and in a new place in the shadow of all of my brothers, I wrote in it. I was surprised, obviously, when it wrote back, but I was eleven and didn't dwell on that. He told me his name was Tom, and he was very sympathetic. I told him everything - about my homesickness, about my crush on Harry, about the girls in my dormitory and my homework. I poured my soul out to him and he always wrote back. He was my friend. I didn't think anyone could ever care as much as Tom did. Then I started blacking out and waking up somewhere else. Sometimes, I was covered in dirt. Other times, my hands had blood on them. And many times, when I woke up, there had been another attack. At first, it was killing roosters. Their crow kills the Basilisk. Then, when Mrs. Norris was attacked, I noticed the coincidence. I tried to throw the diary away, but I couldn't ruin it. Harry found it and wrote in it, but he wasn't stupid enough to give it his soul. I realized he had it, and I stole it back. I was afraid he would be possessed like I was. And I wanted Tom back. He cared about me. He was my friend. Even if he was making me do horrible things, I wanted Tom back. Eventually, he got enough of my soul to possess me completely. Then I realized that Tom was not my friend. Tom was evil, and sick, and he filled my mind with death and torture and violence. He made me sneak to that hallway and paint those words on the wall. Then he made me open the passage and seal it behind me. I walked down into the Chamber, and then he told me the truth. He told me who he was - a shadow of the seventeen-year old Lord Voldemort. Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am Lord Voldemort. Then..." her voice faltered, and he knew she was getting to the worst of it.

"And then he filled my mind with images of love, and he told me to trust him. 'Trust me Ginny,' he told me 'I won't hurt you'. And I believed him completely. And he raped me, and filled my mind with images of rape, and then he threw me on the floor. By the time Harry got down there, I was almost dead. He fought the Basilisk, and stabbed the diary, and Tom died. He brought me out, and they were all so happy. But I couldn't tell them what he had done. I told them everything, up until the Chamber. Because no one can understand how horrible he is. No one can understand why I can't get over this. But I have never been a child since then. I grew up when Tom hurt me, and I can never forget. And the nightmares will never stop."

Ginny was sobbing in earnest now, and Draco was horrified. He knew that the Dark Lord was evil, sick and twisted, and he knew that this should not surprise him, but it did. It surprised him and repulsed him. But at the same time, he felt... pride. He was proud that Ginny Weasley had decided to confide in him. It may have only been because she had no one else who would even close to understand, but he swore then and there that he would never betray her secret.

And then he came to a startling conclusion. Wizard blood was worth nothing - purity of blood meant nothing. One's actions defined one's worth, and Draco Ignatius Malfoy was worth nothing. But he would become worth something, if only so that he would be worth keeping her secret.

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Note: Thanks so much to everyone who has been reviewing - please keep sending in your thoughts so I know if you like where I'm going. Hopefully you like Draco's little revelation, but don't worry, he's still Draco, its just that he's found someone to care about now other than himself and his mother. Coming up next chapter, Draco gets some bad news and makes a choice which changes everything. Ginny gets sicker, and they are separated.


	7. Chapter 7 Hair and Butterflies

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

Chapter 7: Hair and Butterflies

Three days later, Ginny woke up screaming again. After a Calming Draught and a chunk of chocolate, she tugged open the curtain and crawled into Draco's bed, still crying. He too was crying, but he was trying hard not to.

She noticed a small silver box in his hands, embossed with the Dark Mark.

"What's that?" she asked him, and he looked at her woodenly.

"The latest letter from my father and the Dark Lord."

He opened it and she gasped. Inside was a scroll of parchment and a chunk of blonde hair.

"Why did they send you a box of hair?" she asked in horror, one hand going to her mouth.

"Read the letter."

She did, picking it up and unfurling it.

_Draco Malfoy,_

_I see you have disappointed me again. Attached is the latest encouragement from your mother. I had hoped that this would motivate you to act quickly, but as it has not, I remind you that you have one more chance, and then her hair will be gone, and we will move on to fingers. Perhaps you do not care for her, but I quite enjoy her screams. I know dear Bella enjoys making her writhe. It is my hope that I will find myself in Hogwarts soon, and that you will have dealt with Dumbledore, because all plans wait on you. _

_Lord Voldemort_

On another scroll, wrapped around it, was another letter from his father.

_Draco,_

_I thought that I had raised you better than this. You are a coward, and a fool, and if you cannot do this one thing, you are no son of mine. I have heard that you are in the Hospital Wing. If so, I hope that it is part of a plot. If not, then you would do well to remember who you are. Malfoys do not get injured. Malfoys do not get sick. Malfoys are never in such undignified positions. If you are to prove yourself as my son and as a Death Eater, then do so. If not, then enjoy what is sure to be a brief life, and enjoy the packages of your mother that you will receive. If she dies, it is your fault._

_Lucius_

Ginny grabbed a bowl from his bedside and threw up. "Sick bastard," she whispered as he held her hair, "Your father and Tom. Sick bastards."

Madam Pomfrey poked her head in. "Is everything alright?" She was used to them sitting together.

He nodded, and then made a decision. "Actually, no. I must see the Headmaster immediately. Ginny is fine, but I have something that I must tell him now."

"Professor Dumbledore is in a meeting with the minister right now, Mr Malfoy. Can't it wait?"

His glare was filled with such horrible conviction that she didn't need his curt nod to go scurrying out to send for the Headmaster.

Ginny Vanished the contents of the bowl and took a drink of water. "Why do you need to see him so badly?" she asked in a whisper.

"I'm going to tell him everything. You're right. They are sick bastards. And Dumbledore needs to know what they want me to do. If he can save my mother, then I'll do whatever it takes to hunt my father and the Dark-- that damn bastard down. I'll kill them myself if I have to."

"I think Harry has to," she replied softly, taking his hand away from where it scratched at his newly bared wounds.

He seemed stumped for a moment, but he recovered. "Fine. I'll let Scarhead take the glory, but I get to take down my father."

"Deal," answered Ginny wanly. Behind his anger, he was concerned for her. She looked worse, and she hadn't slept except for short, horror-filed stretches since they had arrived. She hadn't hallucinated since that night, but she still pled with Tom in her sleep. That was a large part of why he wanted to kill Him.

Dumbledore strode in a moment later, eyes twinkling briefly as he took in their position. Draco was under the covers and sitting bolt upright, one hand clenched in an angry fist. The other was held in Ginny's small, butterfly hand. She lay back tiredly against the pillows, and though Draco was furious, the hand that Ginny was holding was gentle, almost tender.

"So, Mr Malfoy? What did you want to tell me?"

The whole story spilled out, and only Ginny's gentle fingers on the back of his hand let him remain in control. When he told Dumbledore about his mother, however, he faltered.

"Ah, I see now," said Dumbledore, his eyes conveying a mix of deep sympathy and towering anger, "But as always Tom forgets the power of love. Mr Malfoy, are you certain that you wish to forsake allegiance to your father's cause and to fight against him?"

Draco nodded furiously. "If my mother is safe, I vow that I will do anything to stop them."

The headmaster nodded. "I will see what can be done to help her, but in the mean time, you must know that her pain is not your fault. Tom is to blame for her pain, and your father. Not you."

The headmaster took his leave, and Ginny was under the distinct impression that he was devising plans as he walked. When she looked at Draco, he was jubilant. His thin, pale, pointed face looked truly happy for the first time she could remember. And while she truly was happy for him, she suddenly felt horribly alone again.

The following week, Draco was allowed to leave. No further progress had been made to rescue his mother, but he had been granted a private suite to shield him from young Death Eaters in Slytherin House. Despite this concession, he was still expected to maintain his facade. He never visited her.

Ginny's slight recovery collapsed, and she was reduced to a pitiful state. She shriveled down to little more than flesh and bone, and she could barely speak most days, her voice raw from her screams. Madam Pomfrey was at a complete loss, and her friends and her brother fretted about her constantly. At last, around the beginning of December, they decided that she should be moved home. While she had been trying to keep up with her schoolwork, it was decided that she could be homeschooled better, and that being within the castle walls was doing more harm than good.

When Ginny heard the news, she was horrified. If she was home, she wouldn't be at school. If she was home, she wouldn't receive the little notes that appeared on her bedside table each day. They never said more than a word, and she couldn't bring her hazy mind to discover who sent them, but the words meant a great deal to her. They seemed to be the sum of what her mysterious friend was thinking at the moment. Sometimes, one would come in the morning and then not another for days, and other times, five or six would come in the same day. Sometimes the words were silly - Umbridge-itis, or caramel, or snowball. Other times, they conveyed wishes - hope, survive, courage, safe. And other times, she could fathom no meaning. Mother. Breathe. Together. Strange. Butterflies. Once, the message had had her name. Ginevra. She wished she knew who sent them, but they comforted her all the same.

Despite her protests, however, Ginny was taken home on the fourth of December, two weeks before her brothers would come home for the holidays. Her mother arrived after lunch, and after a brief conversation with Ron, who'd grown thinner and paler with worry, she took Ginny home.

At the Burrow, under her familiar purple bedspread and surrounded by her childhood toys, Ginny began to recover a little. Molly Weasley nursed her carefully, occasionally forcing food or potions down her throat, and she read to Ginny every day. Together, they did the work she had missed and was missing, and slowly, Ginny began to gain weight, and a touch of colour appeared in her cheeks. She still was unable to sleep however.

Ten days before the end of term, Madam Pomfrey wrote to say that she'd obtained some of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction. The potion was meant to remove mental scars from deliberately injurious thoughts, and Ginny doubted it would work. The next day, however, the potion was delivered and was carefully applied to her eyelids six times a day for the next three days.

Ginny felt no better, and was annoyed by the thick paste, but miraculously, two hours after the final dose had been administered by a frantic Molly, Ginny dozed off into her first real sleep in months and woke many hours later feeling refreshed.

"Mum," she said as loud as she could, when she awoke. This was still not very loud, and so it took her a few tries before her mother was alerted, but when Molly rushed into the room, she was surprised to see her daughter smiling happily.

"I slept without screaming," she whispered, "Mum, I slept!"

Molly's heart broke. Her strong, proud, fiery daughter lay before her, withered to a mere husk, colourless and frail, with a voice which rasped feebly like the faintest of sighs, so thankful at the blessing of sleep that she was practically crying. Molly wanted to cry that it had come to this, but instead she smiled and gave Ginny a hug.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad."

The women remained in their tearful embrace for quite some time, but eventually, Ginny began to doze off again.

_I only hope that it lasts_, thought Molly anxiously as she tucked her daughter in.

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Note: Some big changes in here, tell me if you like where this is going please :)

Also about updates - I will try to update at some point in the next week or so but I have exams next week and the week after and I am crazy busy this week, so stay with me. Huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, you guys are the best :D


	8. Chapter 8 Arrivals and Confidantes

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize

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Chapter 8: Arrivals and Confidantes

To everyone's joy, Ginny neither dreamt about Tom nor saw any of the horrible images for the remainder of the week. She had one nightmare about it, but it was nothing like the previous ones, simply a memory of the horror, not a full replay. By Saturday, when her father would go to meet Ron, Harry and Hermione at King's Cross, she looked much better. Her eyes, once dull and horrified, now had begun to sparkle once more. With the help of good sleep, good food and a good dose of hair potions, her hair was a vibrant, shining red mass of curls once again, and her cheeks were tinged pink. She was still extremely thin and weak, but she no longer looked as if she had one foot on the other side of the Veil.

She was ecstatic when Bill and Charlie returned home, and not even the arrival of Phlegm could ruin her excitement. Ginny was getting back to her usual vivacious self with a vengeance. It seemed that her ailment had been mostly based on fear and lack of sleep.

Despite her improving health, Ginny still had difficulty walking. Her muscles had weakened from months in bed, and she could barely stand alone. Fortunately for her, she was a witch in an entirely magical family, and soon a muscle restorative had been brewed, and she was able to walk short distances alone within a few days.

It was December 19th when there came a loud banging at the door. She heard the sound of voices and the distinct sound of arguing, and shortly thereafter, Ron burst into her room.

"Gin, you'll never guess what happened," he said, eyes bright and confused, "Dumbledore just showed up with Malfoy in tow and his unconscious mum on a stretcher behind them. No one will tell me what's going on, but Harry's gone to try to find out."

Ginny bolted upright. "He's here?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear me? He brought that git Malfoy and his mum too."

She wasn't listening to him anymore. Draco Malfoy was in her house with his mum and Dumbledore. He was safe now, really safe. Well, as safe as any of them were, but still...

"Hey Gin, you okay? You look a little wild. Don't worry, Dumbledore won't let Malfoy try anything with you."

She had forgotten that he'd never known that Draco was with her in the Hospital Wing.

"Ron," she asked, "Will you help me get dressed? I want to go down."

"But you're meant to stay in bed."

"Ronald Weasley, will you help me or not? I swear I'll go myself if I have to," she threatened.

Shortly, he was helping her down the stairs. When they got to the bottom, she saw that everyone was assembled. Narcissa Malfoy looked terrible. Her head was completely shorn, and she was missing the pinky finger on her left hang. Her face was haggard, and deep cuts and bruises seemed to be everywhere. Only the faint rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was alive.

Draco looked little better, but he was also exultant. He was much too happy to care about his shabby surroundings, and while Molly and Arthur worked over his mother, he was deep in discussion with Harry.

"Ah, Ginevra," said Dumbledore happily as she was assisted to a chair, "Excellent. I shall assume that you are feeling much better, then?"

"Yes, sir," she said, only the faintest hint of a rasp in her quiet voice.

"Good, quite good. I've already spoken to your parents about this, and I daresay Draco's father ought to have no say in the matter, but I would like to put something to you to consider. Draco and his mother have just fled an extremely dangerous situation of which you are no doubt aware, and currently have nowhere to stay. Your parents have kindly extended an invitation."

Ginny gulped. "So... they're coming to stay?"

"If you choose to accept them. You are beginning to recover from a profound illness, Miss Weasley, and if you feel that their presence here will in any way impede your recovery, Andromeda Tonks has extended an invitation to her sister and nephew."

Ginny bit her lip. She didn't really have any particular concern, but it was bound to be uncomfortable around Draco now that he was so happy, knowing how their fragile friendship had formed.

"They are welcome to stay," she replied finally, "And I'm confident that my recovery will not be slowed. If I find that it is, I will owl you at once, Professor."

"Excellent, most excellent," said the Headmaster, clapping his hands together. "I think I shall assist by making some extra room here and by reinforcing the charms, and then I must, unfortunately, take my leave."

The Burrow was already held together entirely by magic, so Professor Dumbledore simply added in another room, another bathroom and some kitchen space.

"I'm afraid it simply cannot take any more expansion," said Dumbledore, "Or I would add another room. But shall I assume that you will make due?"

"Oh, yes, Albus," said Molly happily, "You've done quite enough if you'll only see to the charms."

Ginny actually was unsure how this would be done, as all of her brothers were currently home except Fred and George, and Hermione and Fleur had been sharing that room. Percy's room was, of course, empty, but it had remained untouched since he had left. Bill and Charlie were in their shared room, and Ron and Harry were in Ron's room, leaving every bedroom except Ginny's at double occupancy.

In the end, Narcissa was given the new room since it was beside Ginny's, and Draco was left to sleep on the couch while her parents decided whether or not to open Percy's room.

The next morning dawned and Ginny woke blissfully warm and comfortable under her heavy blankets. She rubbed at her eyes and yawned, unwilling to move from her comfortable nest, but a piece of parchment on her bedside table caught her eye.

An arm shot out from under her covers and snatched it down, unfolding it.

Free.

The dots connected in her mind. Of course the sender of the note as Draco Malfoy, of course. He couldn't visit, so he sent her little cryptic messages that no one but her could trace. A radiant smile filled her face as she realized that he hadn't forgotten her after all.

Ginny shoved the note under her pillow and snuggled back into her covers as Bill walked in to check on her.

"Hey, Red," he said cheerfully, "Finally decided to wake up, I see." This is why she loved Bill. Everyone else demanded to know how she had slept, how she felt, but Bill just carried on as usual.

She threw a stuffed monkey at him. "It's early. I want to go downstairs but I don't want to get out of my blankets."

He laughed and scooped her up, blankets and all. "Well since you're sick and all, I guess you can have your cake and eat it too."

The corners of Ginny's mouth twitched into a grin, which for Bill made everything worth it. They trooped downstairs and he deposited her in the reclining chair kept for her at the table. Molly was busy cooking, and Hermione and Fleur were setting the table. Neither Ron nor Harry had made an appearance, but Charlie had been put to work beating eggs, and Arthur entered the kitchen just after her.

"Morning all," he said cheerfully, "Just thought you'd all like to know that Narcissa's awake, but try to be quiet around her room. She's still very afraid."

Ginny remembered that they were in her house, and her eyes flew to the couch. She giggled, and all eyes turned to her. It was a happy sound that no one had heard since the summer.

"What?" she asked, still smiling, "He looks so cute!"

Cute was a word that Draco would have thrown up at, had he known it was used to describe him. He would have preferred fearsome, aristocratic or god-like, but the truth was that at the moment, he did look cute and somewhat silly. He was stretched out on the shabby Weasley couch, but his feet and arms hung over the ends. The blanket covered only the top of his legs, and Bill's oversized t-shirt poked out from the top, and a pair of pajama pants with snitches on them from the bottom. His usually immaculate and silky blonde hair looked like a haystack worthy of Harry Potter himself. But the thing that made him cutest was the happy smile that was fixed on his face even in sleep. He looked much like an overgrown child on their couch, and Ginny laughed again.

The Weasleys were slightly appalled by this, but they eventually conceded. A few seconds later, the smell of food roused the teenage boys and the sound of Harry and Ron descending could be heard as Draco sat up on the couch.

To everyone's surprise, his face didn't melt into a sneer but rather had the slightly confused face of someone who has just woken up.

Ron and Harry appeared a moment later, and Ginny had to laugh out loud now. Draco was standing just beside the doorway with his just-woken-up face on, and when Harry stopped beside him, the similarities were striking. Both had hair that was a complete mess, and their identical expressions had even Mrs. Weasley laughing.

"Nice hair, Potter," said Draco yawning.

"You too, Malfoy," replied Harry, and trudged over to the table.

"What are you laughing about?" Draco asked her with a mock-scowl.

"You," she said, still chortling, "You look so silly!"

"I most certainly do not. A Malfoy never looks silly."

Arthur interrupted her retort, knowing that the idiotic conversation would go on forever. "Draco your mother is awake upstairs, but she has some breakfast and a book. After we eat, perhaps you'd like to go see her."

"Is she alright?"

Arthur sighed. "Physically, she looked a lot worse than she was. But she has been subject to torture from Voldemort himself, and that kind of thing takes a long time to recover from."

"I know. She's survived it before. But she will be okay, right?"

Mr. Weasley clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "With time and care, I believe that she will."

With no more ado, breakfast was served and Draco dropped into the seat beside Ginny's.

"Still writing in that diary?" he asked her quietly.

"Every day," she replied, "And thank you for the notes. I just figured out who must have sent them, but I loved them."

He grinned. "I couldn't visit you, and I didn't want to get caught writing you, but no one could connect one word messages to either of us. I had the house elves take them at school, but last night I had to levitate it into your room myself. So I guess you're getting better then?"

She smiled. "It turns out that I wasn't just being a baby, the way he put the thoughts in my mind caused scars. So Madam Pomfrey finally got her hands on a draught of Dr. Ubbly's and once I finished that, I was able to sleep. I think I'll be able to go back to school, actually. I can sleep and eat now, so I'm not as thin and weak. I still can't quite walk around myself, but that's just because I spent so much time in bed these last months. I can make it across rooms, but the stairs are too much for me."

"Now that I'm safe, Ginny, I'll help you get better too. I'll practice walking with you every day," promised Draco. Hermione got the tail end of this, and smiled knowingly.

Ginny picked up his arm and turned it over. The scars from his curses were still visible, and though they were closed, and looked less horrible than the last time, they still looked painful. She traced a light finger over each one and whispered, "How are you, really?"

Draco hoped that the butterflies in his stomach were just in response to her butterfly touch, but he was also afraid that that was the case. "I'm well, Gin. Now that I have mum, and now that I don't have to try to hurt anyone, I don't hate myself anymore."

"OI, MALFOY!" hollered Ron suddenly, "WHY'RE YOU TOUCHING MY SISTER?"

Hermione gave a long suffering sign and dropped her head to the table with a bang, and Mrs. Weasley kicked him in the shins and kept eating, but everyone else at the table except Fleur turned to look.

He wriggled his arm out of Ginny's grasp immediately, but she snatched it back up. "For your information, Ronald," she replied haughtily, "I'm touching him, not the other way around, so you can go sod yourself."

Mrs. Weasley looked upset at the rude language but she let it go. Really, he had deserved that. Ron was spluttering, but he shut up, having both upset his fragile sister and lost the support of his brothers.

After the meal, Draco went upstairs to visit Narcissa and Ginny went back to her room. She was tired, and planned to take a quick nap. Shortly, she woke up to someone sitting down on her bed. It was Draco, and he looked weary again.

"She reminds me of you," he said sadly, "When I first found you."

Ginny froze, and he lay back against the pillows next to her, exactly as they had in the Hospital Wing. She knew exactly what he meant.

"She's not as bad as you were," he continued, playing aimlessly with her comforter, "She's seen and survived it before, but this time my father didn't help her. I think that made it worse. He always promised her that he loved her, even when he hurt her, and I think that she hung onto that promise."

"Can I go see her?" she asked him suddenly, "I have to know for myself that she's okay."

He sighed and handed her her slippers and wrapped an arm around her waist. They walked slowly down the hall and into Narcissa's room. It was painted a cheerful yellow, and Ginny liked it right away. In the middle of the room lay Draco's mother. She looked terrible, and Ginny was stricken by the fear in her eyes.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" she asked softly, and Draco helped her into the chair beside the bed and withdrew.

"Call me Narcissa, please," she whispered, "You must be Ginny. Draco's told me a great deal about you. I owe you my life and the life of my son. Without you, he would have killed himself by now and I would have been tortured to death."

Ginny bit her lip. "I don't really think I can take the credit. I was pretty sick the whole time we were together, and I think it's because of me that he tried in the first place."

Narcissa's dry hand covered hers, and Ginny tried not to shudder at the stump of a finger. "Nevertheless, you have my thanks."

"Are you scared, Narcissa?" said Ginny quietly. The woman looked shocked at the question, and at her questioning look, Ginny poured out her whole story.

"So you, too, know what it is like," said the older woman softly, tears running down her cheeks, "You know how it is to be hurt. But you were only a child when he touched you, and I am a woman. I will survive this for Draco's sake. I must. But if you will help me, I think it shall go much quicker."

So it was settled. Ginny continued to recover nicely, and each morning, Draco would help her walk. Soon, she was able to walk up the stairs alone without needing to nap after, and her muscles began to work again. She was, after all, a witch, and it was hard to keep magical folk down. In the afternoons, Ginny would sit with Narcissa. Every day, she massaged hair restoring potions into the woman's head, and by Christmas Eve, she had a chic little bob. Narcissa was excessively proud of her hair, much like her son, and had taken its loss hard. With hair restored, Ginny gave her what she desperately needed - conversation with someone who understood completely and had survived.

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Note: I hope you like where this is going, let me know. And thanks so much to everyone who has wished me luck on exams, good luck to everyone else as well


	9. Chapter 9 Butterflies and Snowballs

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. **

Note: Sorry it's been so long and I should have another chapter by the end of the week. In this chapter is Christmas and the return of Moony and Padfoot. Bear with me, I'm working on my happy writing, its harder than the sad stuff. Also I apologize for the needless bits, I just wanted to be sure that everyone got an idea of the full chaos and craziness of a Weasley Christmas when everyone's around.

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Chapter 9: Butterflies and Snowballs

Christmas Eve came sooner than anyone had expected, and the house was absolutely bursting when Fred and George joined everyone on the 22nd with Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, who they introduced as their girlfriends. Draco had been put in Percy's room, but he was moved to Fred and George's room so that Fleur, Katie and Angelina could sleep in Percy's room, and Hermione joined Ginny in hers. The rearranging was something completely foreign to Draco, who had never slept in the same room as anyone except for the time in the Hospital Wing, and had certainly never needed to shift around rooms. He was the butt of many jokes and pranks, however, and after a day during which he could hardly move without turning into a canary, or sporting a black eye, or having his ears Vanished, Mrs. Weasley took pity on him and set up a cot in Narcissa's room until the twins left again.

On Christmas Eve, they were joined for dinner by Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore and Snape, as well as Hagrid, Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, though Sirius and Remus were mysteriously absent. After much hand-wringing on the part of Mrs. Weasley, the idea of a sit down dinner was forgotten and everyone was simply handed a plate and told to sit where they could. Ginny and Narcissa both summoned the strength to dress up and come downstairs, and Draco and Bill comically wrapped both of them up like burritos in thick quilts. She found herself sandwiched on the couch between Draco and Bill, and Narcissa sat beside Draco, and on her other side, Andromeda was eagerly catching up with her sister. Ted and Arthur were leaning on the counter and discussing muggle telephones, a favourite subject of Arthurs. Tonks was, somewhat ominously, huddled with Fred and George, and Hermione sat at Ginny's feet with Katie and Angelina lounging on the floor around her. The children graciously conceded chairs to the professors, except Snape who sat on a table beside Bill. Mad-Eye was talking to Charlie, who looked slightly panicked, until Kingsley rescued him by drawing both into a discussion about dragon breeding. Hagrid was sitting on the floor with Harry, and Ron was trying to squeeze in beside Hermione, which Ginny noticed with a grin.

Finally, when everyone had eaten, Molly instructed Harry, Ron and Draco to clean up while they began Christmas carols. Ginny ended up going to bed quite happily - it turned out that Draco sung just about as well as Ron and Hagrid, so the three of them did a lovely rendition of Celestina Warbeck's "Cauldron full of Hot, Strong Love", much to the amusement of everyone except Molly, and it made her happy that Narcissa and Andromeda had reconciled.

On Christmas Day, she woke up extremely early. Shortly, there was a veritable stampede for the stairs as Harry, Ron, Draco, Ginny, Bill, Charlie and Hermione made a run for it, but Fred and George beat them all by Apparating to the landing and then sprinting madly down the rest of the way yelling "It's CHRISTMAS!"

Christmas morning was always mad at the Burrow, and this was no exception. Fred and George were going a little jig in front of the tree - the first to get down always got the first presents, and Ron and Harry made a mad dash for the seats by the tree, only to get ousted by Bill and Charlie, who took them for themselves. Hermione and Ginny curled up by the fire, and Draco somehow snagged a chair nearby. Soon, Molly assisted Narcissa down to a chair, and both adult Weasleys sat down. This, to everyone's amusement, left Fred and George chairless.

They chucked Draco out of his chair and Fred yanked Angelina out of hers, only to replace her on his lap, which she didn't seem to mind. Everyone had found a seat, though all of the younger people were on the floor, namely the Dream Team, Ginny and Draco.

Molly passed around hot chocolate, and then they got down to the business of opening presents. Both Draco and Narcissa were shocked to have gotten gifts, but as Draco had done a good job of owl-ordering gifts for everyone else, it wasn't terribly shocking.

Everyone, including the Malfoys, got Weasley jumpers, and the jokes started right away at Draco's neon green sweater with a D on it and all the rest of the sweaters."

"Oi Malfoy," said Harry, "Didn't know you planned to impersonate a traffic light." This joke fell over slightly when only Hermione laughed, but after and explanation everyone high-fived Harry.

"Well, at least she got your name right," said George mournfully, "I always get the wrong one. Doesn't she know my name is Forge yet?"

"Honestly, mother," said Fred, "You've mixed us up again. It's Gred and Forge," he said, pointing at each of them.

Charlie and Bill stuffed Ron into his maroon sweater, and Draco laughed. "You look smashing in maroon, Weasley," he said.

Charlie high-fived him as Ron scowled. "At least Mum knows I'll remember my name."

Ginny opened hers, and was delighted. It was a deep, rich purple. She pulled it on happily, and then George noticed the G in silver thread. "Hey, Mum, now you're mixing us up with Ginny!"

Arthur got few jokes, and Charlie had gotten Molly a lovely sweater from Romania, so they moved onto the other presents after mocking Harry and Hermione for the fact that their names were fully written on their sweaters.

Ginny got a lovely pair of dragon-hide gloves lined with fur from Charlie, an entire book series from Hermione, about a hundred pairs of socks from Ron and Harry, all of which were garish and horrible but at the same time perfectly amazing, a bag of tricks from Fred and George as well as a pile of Chocolate Frogs, a charmed necklace from Bill, and a delicate glass lioness from Narcissa. Luna had sent a book about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, and Colin had sent a lovely photo album including a picture of her and Draco in the Hospital Wing, and her parents had gotten her a new set of dress robes which she adored. Then Draco hesitantly handed her his gift. She opened it hesitantly and gasped.

"Draco, I love it!" she exclaimed happily. A folded piece of parchment bearing the word "Family" sat on top, and then underneath sat a beautiful silver butterfly which sparkled all the colours of the rainbow. On its' gossamer wings was written in twirling script "hope". She lifted it out and if fluttered carefully and then took off, flying around her face and alighting on her nose.

Hermione whistled. "That's impressive magic! How on earth did you do that?"

He grinned. "I didn't. I had it custom made though, and I had to be pretty damn specific," he waved off scoldings from Molly and Narcissa, "But it came out perfect."

"I'm surprised that it was made so fast, though," replied Hermione thoughtfully, "You'd think it would take an awfully long time."

Draco shook his head a bit bashfully. "I ordered it at the beginning of December, the day I got out of the Hospital Wing."

Thankfully, Ron and the other Weasleys missed this little exchange and were too busy exclaiming over the little butterfly to notice, but Hermione's eyes widened. "You've been sending the notes?"

"Well I couldn't visit or say anything incriminating, but I had to do something."

Their attention was distracted by Narcissa's cry of delight. Hermione and Ginny had, together, had another diary rush-ordered for her. It was a deep green leather embossed with a silver flower, and the accompanying quill was silver as well, but beautifully feminine.

"Ginevra, Hermione, I love this!" she cried, enfolding Ginny and Hermione in a tight hug from her chair.

Other highlights of the morning were a muggle computer for Arthur from the Malfoys and Draco's gift for Ron and Harry - a book on Defense Against the Dark Arts ripped straight from his father's study. The boys were ecstatic, as was Hermione with her book - Healing Dark Curses.

Around lunch time, Andromeda and Ted popped back in and gave their presents to Draco and Narcissa, had a cup of tea, and headed out again. As soon as the last plates were cleared, the Weasley boys rushed outside for their annual snowball war. Ginny and Narcissa bundled up and sat together on the porch chatting, though Ginny was wistfully eyeing the snow.

Draco dearly wanted to join in. He couldn't really be nasty to the Weasleys or Harry any longer, but he wanted to show them a good fight in something at least. Nonetheless he was afraid of ruining the tenuous peace that he shared with them, so he remained indoors.

The teams divided evenly: Harry, Bill, Charlie, and Arthur against Fred, George, Ron, Katie and Angelina. Hermione, Fleur and Molly came to sit with Ginny and Narcissa, as did Draco, but all of the students shot longing gazes at the snowball fight. As Harry's team began to flounder, Hermione and Ginny instructed Draco to begin making snowballs and charmed them to launch themselves at the twins' team. They looked around wildly, and spotted Draco furiously pounding snowballs into shape.

"Aha!" they shouted together.

"Traitor!" yelled Fred, laughing, "We let you into our home and this is how you repay us?"

"Good on you, Draco," yelled Charlie, "Only do them a little faster and we might win!"

The twins charged. Despite the snow attack, they managed to drag Draco off and wash his face off with snow. They caught Hermione next, and soon the new competitors were rescued and fighting valiantly for their team.

Fleur winked at Ginny, and then began to charm the snow into balls. Ginny gave her a grateful smile and began flinging them again.

Soon, Harry's team having soundly won thanks to their extra help, everyone collapsed in the snow and declared themselves ready for some hot chocolate. As they trooped inside, a great black dog came careening through the snow, spraying it everywhere and barking joyfully. Draco shrunk back - he'd never been a fan of dogs.

The dog skidded to a halt at Harry's feet and began licking his face. "Hey, Snuffles," he said with a laugh, pushing the dog off.

"Bloody hell!" yelled Draco loudly as Sirius transformed and Remus appeared with a wry smile on his face. Both men laughed and clapped him on the back. "Good to see you, cousin," said Sirius in mock seriousness.

Draco wasn't at all sure how to reply at the sudden appearance of his cousin (who he had thought was a dead murderer) and his former Defense teacher who was certainly a werewolf. He was, thankfully, saved the necessity when Ginny came out again and threw herself at Siruis.

"Hey, Red," he said, tousling her hair playfully, "How're you doing?"

"Where have you been, Sirius?" she asked, pouting, "I've been sick for months and you haven't come to visit."

Sirius looked honestly shocked, as did Lupin. "For months? Bloody hell, Moony and I've been away since August, trying to get in with the werewolves, Gin. We had no idea or we would've come. What was wrong?"

A shadow crossed Ginny's face, and Draco decided it was best to step in. "Why don't we talk about it inside?"

She gratefully took the out and led the two men inside. Molly offered them tea as well, and Sirius pulled out a series of shrunken parcels. He chucked them to each recipient, unshrinking them as he did so. Draco watched, fascinated, as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny each got presents.

Harry and Ron both opened the latest broomsticks, the Firebolt X, and Harry also received an enormous bucket full of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"I was trying to see if I could actually get you every flavour, so I made the sales girl dig through until she found me five of each. I'm not entirely sure you can lift it though, so better use a spell."

They all laughed, and Hermione opened hers next. It was a book on advanced glamour charms.

"Um, thanks, Sirius," said Hermione, somewhat confused.

"Harry told me about how you hated hair potions, so I found this book instead. Most people can't master the charms, but I have faith that you can. Then you'll never have to worry about hair potions again."

Once again, everyone laughed. It seemed to Draco that most of Sirius' gifts were expensive, thoughtful and funny. He was anxious to see what Ginny opened.

She pulled the parcel onto her lap. First, she opened a gigantic box of Honeydukes filled with all of her favourite chocolates, and she popped one into her mouth right away. Then she turned her attention to the smaller package. Inside, was a pair of tiny dreamcatcher earrings made with spun gold.

"Hey Red," said Sirius, no trace of a grin on his face, "Their spelled to give you good dreams and trap bad ones. Apparently they don't work for really bad ones, but they do work alright."

Ginny's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Sirius, I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"I didn't know about you being sick, but you had mentioned to me that you were still having nightmares at the beginning of last summer, so I hunted these down. You deserve nothing but the best dreams."

Draco was touched by the care that the man had shown, and impressed by his gift. He was even happier when Ginny pulled her butterfly out. It hung, still, on the chain around her neck, looking for all the world like nothing more than a pretty pendant, but when she let it loose, it began to glow gently in the evening light and fluttered around her head.

Remus whistled. "Who got you that?"

"Draco did," she replied with a soft smile. His insides melted, and once again he felt butterflies.

There was no further comment, but later that evening, when Sirius passed him on his way to the table, he shook Draco's hand warmly. "Welcome to the family, son," he said, and Draco could only nod.

He went to bed feeling stuffed, exhausted, and completely happy. Even his mother confessed that it had been the best Christmas of her life. He changed into the pajamas that Mrs. Weasley had procured for him and brushed his teeth. Once he was sure that Ginny would be asleep, he crept down the stairs with his folded parchment.

As he poked his head around the door quietly, he saw Ginny sitting cross-legged in her bed. Above her, the glowing gossamer butterfly fluttered peacefully, and in her ears, the dreamcatchers sparkled faintly. She was radiant and peaceful, all at the same time, and for the first time, she looked healthy and vital. Draco felt his heart swell as he looked at her. He was now used to the pangs in his heart that he felt when he was around her (and suddenly around his mother as well), but this one felt a little like a heart attack. He began to panic, but it subsided to a manageable swelling after a second.

He twitched his wand and the paper drifted across her floor to her bedside table. To his surprise, she caught if deftly and opened it. A smile caught on her face as she read the word that he had carefully chosen. _Perfect._

"Draco?" she whispered.

He crept around the corner. "Yeah?"

"Will you come sit with me?"

He obliged her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Did you have a good Christmas?"

Draco laughed softly. His previous Christmases had begun with books about Dark Arts or torture, or a new broomstick and the promise of pain if he did not beat Harry Potter. Then, they would be joined by Bellatrix and Rodolphus, who were both completely insane, and after a silent and solemn dinner, the ball would commence, and he would spend the evening speaking with other Death Eater families. After the close of the ball, the women and children would all go home and the men would go drink and torture Muggles. Draco and Narcissa would wait at home in fear until the inevitable came. Lucius would arrive home in a drunken rage and beat them both until Draco fled, bleeding, and left his mother. "I can honestly say that this has been my best Christmas ever. How was yours?"

"Good. I love my butterfly."

"I'm glad."

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we friends?"

The question made him sad, but he answered anyways. "Yeah, Gin, we're friends. Best friends, I think."

"Who are your other friends? Crabbe? Goyle?"

"You mean the overgrown rock formations that cling to me because of who my father is? Not a chance. I don't have very many friends."

"You must have one, though," she insisted.

He frowned. "Well, if I could pick my friends, I'd be friends with Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. They're both non-Dark Slytherins, and I usually wish I was sitting with them instead of with my own friends. I also like Teddy Nott, but he's not in a much better situation then I am."

"What about Pansy Parkinson?"

Draco made an extremely rude noise and shook his head. "I'm too much of a gentleman to describe her the way I want to, but I hung around her because a, she is impossible to get rid of, and b, because she was important to my role as a future Death Eater."

Ginny giggled and snuggled against him. Draco suddenly realized what he had failed to notice when she was weak and thin. Ginny was very definitely a girl, and a very pretty one at that. Her fiery hair curled on his chest as she leaned against him, and the curve of her body fit perfectly with his. As she looked up at him, he noticed that her perfectly curved, pink lips looked incredibly soft.

_Shit! Draco, what the hell are you doing, thinking about her like this. Didn't you listen? You're friends. Friends, you idiot! And, keep in mind how much her brothers will murder you if you so much as touch her. And she's sick. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_

Ginny was cuddled comfortably against Draco in her bed when he suddenly looked down at her in a way that made her blush. She suddenly became aware of the fact that he was a boy, in her bed, and a very attractive one at that. Then she looked into his eyes and was lost in the silver depths.

In her mind, she heard Hermione's voice. _Um, Ginny, why are you staring at Draco Malfoy like you're in love with him? I mean sure, he's good looking, but he's Draco Malfoy! _

She shushed her friend's annoying voice (Ginny's conscience always either sounded like Hermione or her mum, both of whom had very identifiable voices and liked to lecture). Then she noticed that Draco was still staring at her, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. So she did what came naturally. She raised a hand to his cheek and brushed it softly, taking in his soft shiver and the way his cheek heated under her touch. Then she lifted herself slightly, just slightly, so that their lips met in the gentlest way possible.

He sat stunned for half a second and then lowered his face to hers and kissed her back. She felt as if all of the relationships she'd ever had - with Michael, with Dean, even with Harry, and even with Tom - had all been wiped away. This was the first kiss she hadn't had, complete with fireworks and butterflies. As she thought that, Fred and George had the bright idea to let off a whole box of their fireworks, and Ginny's lips curved into a grin. Draco pulled away.

"What's so funny?" he asked, slightly worried that it might be him

"I was just thinking--"

"I hope it was something like 'damn, Draco Malfoy is an excellent kisser'," he interrupted playfully and she swatted at him.

"I was thinking that that's how a kiss is supposed to be - with butterflies and fireworks, and then they lit the fireworks and it was really true, literally and figuratively."

He smiled euphorically and kissed her again.

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Note: See? I finally gave you some D/G love. Thanks to all my reviewers and to all of the people who've added this as a favourite story. Please keep reading and reviewing. I'm still in exams, but I have another chapter written and mostly polished, so you should get it by the end of the week. Next chapter: on the train to Hogwarts, a promise and a meeting with the Silver Trio of Slytherin ;)


	10. Chapter 10 Leaving and Reconciliation

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize**

Note: In this chapter - Ginny and Harry make up, Draco meets up with his own Trio and housemates.

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Chapter 10: Leaving and Reconciliation

The rest of the break passed without any more excitement, though Ginny and Draco saw each other a great deal, and relished in the experience. They weren't perfectly matched in the sense that Ginny and Harry were - the Gryffindor princess and the Boy Who Lived - but they seemed to have a deeper connection, almost as if the other had found the places where the one was broken, and they had matched jagged edges to form a perfect fit.

Despite the happiness, there was an underlying worry. Dumbledore had (in a fit of kindness, perhaps) sent a letter to Lucius proclaiming that Draco and Narcissa were save in a location of his choosing, and that Draco would be returning to school. This letter had not been dignified by any sort of reply, but both Malfoys were sure that Lucius would be furious.

Back at Hogwarts, Draco would no longer be able to reside in Slytherin house. Dumbledore had owled to say that the castle had sprouted a new room conveniently close to Gryffindor which was outfitted as a second Slytherin house. Draco would take up residence immediately, and the Slytherin table would be divided down the middle. Such an act had never been done at Hogwarts, but since the safety of students was at stake, it was done.

Daphne and Astoria Greengrass as well as Blaise Zabini would be following as well. They had all been under pressure from the students who followed in the footsteps of Death Eater parents, and it was felt that they would be safer with Draco. Two first years, a second year, four third years, two fourth years and three fifth years would be joining them in the new Slytherin for their own safeties, and Draco planned to begin recruiting under the philosophy that Slytherin does not necessarily equate with evil.

The new Slytherins would have classes as if they were still Slytherins unless they were overtly threatened during lessons, in which case they would move to the lessons of another House, or if it was a shared lesson, simply move to the other side of the room. Dobby had also volunteered his and Winky's services in the event that students were attacked - he could rally house elves to take students to a safer place.

Several of the students being moved had already owled Draco, who would be prefect of the new Slytherin, along with Daphne Greengrass, to thank him for helping them out of the bind they were in and to ask for details about the new situation.

Ginny was proud to see the role he was taking in leading the new students, and she hoped that he could be someone that the younger students could look up to instead of simply fearing.

For herself, she was slightly more fearful. She had spent the better part of the first term in the Hospital Wing, and while all of her professors had tested her and found her to be keeping up with the class, Ginny was worried that she would have neither the stability nor the stamina to keep up.

Draco thought that all of these concerns were laughable, and offered to tutor her personally. He even went so far as to offer to walk her to class if she needed help.

The last day of the break came too early for either Ginny or Draco. She had been growing steadily stronger and was able to move around by herself again, and Draco had been developing an odd sort of friendship with Harry and Hermione, and though Ron still made a great show of detesting him, Ginny was sure that the jibes and the sneers had become less sincere.

The Weasleys and all of their guests were dressed and packed early the next morning for the first time ever. This was probably due to the fact that Draco was always extraordinarily punctual, and he and Hermione had managed to convince Ginny to pack early, so only Harry and Ron woke with their things in a mess. Narcissa gave her son a fierce hug and shook everyone else's hand. Much to Ginny's surprise, however, the elegant woman took her face between her hands and kissed her forehead.

"I wish you all the best dreams, Ginevra," she said, touching Ginny's hair, "And promise to write."

Molly was quite overwrought already, but these words brought tears to her eyes. "My babies are going to the train without me!" she cried emotionally, crushing them all into her arms. Draco looked positively appalled, but he bore it with good grace as Molly kissed his cheek and ruffled his immaculately styled hair. Narcissa was unable to go to the train, and so for the first time, Molly would have to bid her children farewell at the Burrow. This, in Ginny's mind, was no excuse for tears and repeated bear hugs, but she supposed that she had never really understood her mother's mood swings about the children leaving.

Soon enough they were off. The ministry sent cars for them and a guard for Harry and Draco came from the Order, so when they arrived at the platform, it was in an imposing group. The guards, much to Draco's everlasting embarrassment, escorted them right to their seats before taking their leave.

"Dear god," he sighed, collapsing into his seat, "That was awful. I felt like a child."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, well that should be nothing new. But seriously, get used to it. I've had a guard pretty much since fourth year, and I'll bet that you won't escape one with your father after you."

Draco ignored the jibe and sighed. "And now I have to go to the prefect compartment, just brilliant."

"Stop complaining, Malfoy," said Ron, getting up in what he obviously considered a dignified manner, which was ruined completely when he tripped and showed Draco an extremely rude hand gesture when the other boy laughed.

Harry and Ginny were left alone as Draco, Ron and Hermione left, and an uncomfortable silence fell. She hadn't really been alone with Harry since she had broken up with him, and she knew he was wracked with guilt about what had happened to her after. He fidgeted with his wand nervously, and Ginny began anxiously twirling a finger in her hair. She had no idea what to say to him.

After another few tense moments, Harry finally broke the silence. "Look, Ginny, I'm so sorry about --".

Ginny cut him off - she'd heard apologies enough, they weren't making things less awkward. "It's fine. Really. I'm better now, and it was never really your fault in the first place. I shouldn't have said yes knowing that I didn't really want to be with you like that. But it's in the past, and can we _please_ just forget about it?"

"Er, I guess so," replied Harry looking incredibly relieved, "So you're feeling better then?"

"Yeah. No more nightmares."

"Good."

Silence fell again. Damn. She had to find something that they could talk about. Anything.

"So d'you think that Snape'll let me off easy just because I've been sick?" she asked.

Harry snorted loudly. "Yeah and Hagrid is the next Merlin. He'll probably be even worse."

They launched into a tirade, comparing their worst Snape stories, and soon the tension was completely eased.

"We ought to have given him a bottle of shampoo when he came round at Christmas," said Ginny, lying back on the seat.

"Greasy-haired git," said Harry jovially. Then he frowned. "Speaking of which, why was he there at all? I know McGonagall and Dumbledore came, but its not like he likes us so much in the first place."

"Well he's Draco's godfather, isn't he? He must have wanted to be around Draco on Christmas. This is Draco's first Christmas that didn't end horribly, you know."

Harry sighed. "I didn't really ever realize how bad he must have had it with a father like that. He always looked so much like a spoiled prat that he reminded me of Dudley. But when you think about it, he pretty much had the worst of what Dudley and I each got."

She reached over to pat Harry on the shoulder gently. "It's over for both of you now though," she said softly, and Harry just nodded, looking out the window and lost to his thoughts.

Just then, Draco, Ron and Hermione came back in, trailed by Blaise and Daphne. The compartment was only meant for six, but they all crammed in anyways.

"How was the meeting?" asked Ginny cheerfully, trying to give Harry some space.

"The usual," grunted Ron, flopping down beside Harry. "I wonder where the trolley is?"

Draco had been disappointed to have to leave Ginny's side, but he grinned when he saw Daphne. "Hey, Daphne," he said, sitting down next to her. Ron and Hermione sat down on the other side of the compartment.

"Hi, Draco. Have you seen Blaise? I'm getting a little worried that he might not be on the train. He was supposed to meet me earlier."

He raised his eyebrows. "No, I haven't seen him. I'll get the Gryffindors and we'll go check the Slytherin compartment after. They might have got him. I don't think any of them know that he's with us yet."

She merely looked worried as the meeting started. As usual, it was long and boring, and Draco was appalled to see that his replacement as Slytherin prefect had been Goyle. The boy was a gorilla. A particularly dumb and mean one.

After the meeting, Ron and Hermione joined them to raid the Slytherin compartment. They were about halfway down the train towards it when Blaise sauntered out. His nonchalant look lasted just until he was out of their sight, and then he ran up to Draco and Daphne.

"Thank god. Bulstrode and Crabbe cornered me. I didn't give anything away, but they want to know where you are, Draco," said Blaise anxiously. He turned more serious. "Mate, I think you've gone and painted a target on all of our backs. I hope you can back it up."

Draco nodded gravely. "I can. I won't tell you how, since you won't want to know, but you will be protected."

Blaise looked relieved, and then his usual grin resurfaced on his face. He was loud and exuberant much of the time, and it was for this reason that Draco liked him. They all went back to the compartment where Ginny and Harry were waiting together.

As they entered, he noticed that Potter looked oddly sad and thoughtful, so he prepared himself to change the subject. Ginny handily made that unnecessary.

"How was the meeting?" she asked a little too quickly.

"The usual," replied Ronald, flopping himself ungracefully onto a seat, "I wonder where the trolley is?"

He caught the look that Hermione and Ginny shared and almost laughed. Instead, he pulled Ginny onto his lap to create more space.

"MALFOY!" hollered Ron, "I'VE WARNED YOU!"

Hermione began banging her head gently on the door. He noticed idly that she did that a lot when Ronald was being stupid. Ginny replied by giving Ron the finger and threatening to curse him into next year if he wouldn't shut up.

The red-head was afraid of his sister's curses, so he complied, but not before glaring at Draco. Draco merely smiled angelically back. This was exactly why he like Ginny so much.

He introduced Daphne and Blaise, and Daphne hit it off right away with Ginny. Things were going brilliantly until the compartment door was pulled open. A girl stood in the doorway tearfully. Her blonde hair was messy and her robes were askew, and she ran to Daphne.

"Astoria, what happened?" cried the older girl.

"Pansy happened," said Neville for her as he and Luna opened the door. They were escorting the first and second year students who would be joining the new Slytherin. "She had Goyle drag them into the compartment and was terrorizing them when Luna and I walked in and hexed them both.

"Theodore Nott pointed us in the right direction, actually," said Luna in her singsong voice, "I'm not sure why. Maybe the wrackspurts got in his ears."

None of the Gryffindors batted an eye at this, but Daphne and Draco looked appalled. The younger students felt it wise to nod in agreement at this. They were obviously unsure whether or not wrackspurts really existed, but they were too frightened at the moment to risk any sort of disagreement with their saviors.

Blaise exploded into laughter. "Loony Lovegood!" he exclaimed, "You are absolutely brilliant!"

Draco rolled his eyes and glanced at the first years. "Ignore them, there's no such thing as wrackspurts."

"Yes there is," interjected Luna dreamily.

He ignored her, having neither the patience nor the inclination to deal with crazy at the moment. "We need to split up, though. No matter what we do, we can't all fit in one compartment."

Harry stood suddenly, breaking out of his reverie. "You and Daphne should let them know how things are going to be and get to know everyone better," he said firmly, "So everyone not in the new Slytherin will leave, and we'll meet you at Hogwarts."

Everyone did as he said, making room for the boy and two girls who were the first and second years. Even Ginny stood, and Draco was disappointed. She kissed him, however, and touched his cheek softly. "You promised to walk me from the train, so I'll be waiting on the platform."

They all took their leave, and only a few minutes later did he realize that the other Slytherins were waiting for him to speak and he was staring out the window with a stupid smile on his face. Draco wiped the smile off right away, cursing under his breath as Blaise roared with laughter again.

After Draco glared Blaise into silence, they got down to the real business of helping the younger students adjust.

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Note: Two in one night... everyone had better read and review! Next chapter: Draco does something sweet and then doesn't know how to deal with it, Ginny gets jumped in the girls' dorm. Also check out the two oneshots that I wrote while procrastinating studying for a history exam - And As They Kiss, Consume, and Sketches. They're both just random little things that popped into my mind and have nothing to do with each other or this story, but check them out.


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